


Sense Memory

by konacher7258



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Daddy Kink, Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Weight Gain, fat!Dean, fat!john
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 19:09:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5939950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/konacher7258/pseuds/konacher7258
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean comes home from school on a hot day to find John asleep on the couch</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sense Memory

The first thing that catches Dean’s eye is the way the breeze from the ceiling fan rustles John’s hair against his forehead. The second is the red pinched look to the exposed skin around the waistband of his jeans. John’s gained weight recently. Dean can feel the bite of a tight waistband around his own flesh. He’s gained weight too.

Dean is used to the sight of John lounging around shirtless, lethargic in the oppressive June heat, but it never stops being so utterly enticing. He leaves his socks and boots by the door and creeps towards him, wondering if John will be angry if he disturbs his rest. John looks so relaxed and comfortable, despite the thick heat in the room, but Dean only has so long until Sam’s afterschool study session is over. Deciding to take his chances, he unbuttons his fly and lets his jeans fall, stepping out of them as he continues forward in boxer briefs and a sweat-damp t-shirt. He can smell the salt of John’s sweat and a lingering scent of cigarettes, not old and stale but inviting like smoke hanging in hot summer air. There’s also the ever-present tang of alcohol, but sweeter than usual, like John’s stuck to beer these last few days. All of it combines to create the smell of _daddy_ and it drives Dean up the wall. 

With one hand gripping the back of the couch and the other out for balance, he hooks a leg over John and lightly climbs onto him, positioning his knees on either side of John’s hips. He runs his hands appreciatively over the round curve of John’s exposed gut, trailing down to squeeze the fatty underside where the hair is fuller. He leans forward, careful not to rest too much of his weight, and lets his nose brush the shell of John’s ear. “Dad,” he whispers. “Daddy, wake up.”

He feels John stir beneath him, coming to wakefulness. His sleep-slack arms draw up to feel for Dean’s body. “Mmm,” he growls sleepily, before a slow grin spreads across his face. “Hi, baby.”

“Sammy’s at the library,” Dean informs him, sitting back and letting his full weight settle over John’s pelvis. The man’s hands lazily stroke up his sides, knuckles running over the contour of soft rolls. He reaches for the hem of Dean’s shirt and pushes it up around his fleshy chest so that Dean’s big, doughy belly flops onto John’s stomach. Dean pulls his shirt all the way off and drops it on the floor beside the couch. He’s still sweating, and the press of their bellies is hot and sticky, but now he can feel the breeze from the fan against his back.

John’s fingers are kneading the soft flab of his belly, pressing deep into the yielding flesh. “You’re getting so big,” he rumbles approvingly.

“You’re getting bigger too,” Dean smiles, tucking a finger into John’s waistband and running it along the reddened skin.

“‘Drink too much, I guess,” John murmurs. “Because I don’t eat half as much as you do.”

Dean agrees that John drinks too much but he says nothing. Instead he grinds down against the hardening bulge in John’s jeans, rubbing himself against the denim in a way that he knows John can’t resist.

“You want it, don’t you, baby?” John grins, hands closing around Dean’s hips. “Let’s get these off.” He peels Dean’s underwear over his fat ass and heavy thighs, down to his knees where Dean takes over and shimmies them down his legs. He kicks them off and resettles on top of John so that his hard cock is sandwiched between their guts.

Dean jerks his hips forward, creating friction between his cock and John’s underbelly. The pleasure that shoots through him pulls a choked “oh, god” from his lips. He thrusts forward again and then swivels his hips so that the sensitive skin of his sac drags over John’s jeans.

John’s chuckle is a warm, deep rumble as he chides, “easy, easy.” He spreads his palms over Dean’s thighs, a cue for him to shuffle away from John’s groin. Dean settles back on John’s thighs and watches as John unzips his fly and undoes the button. The flaps of his jeans spread apart as his gut sags forward and Dean lets out a whimper, his hand closing around the base of his cock. John wraps an arm around his stomach and heaves it up so he can pull his cock free with his other hand. He gives it a few strokes and then lets his belly flop down against his erection. “There you go,” he says, folding his arms behind his head.

“I can’t ride it,” Dean says apologetically as he fingers the shaft. “No lube.”

“S’not the only way to get off,” John says calmly. “You could come just bucking against me, couldn’t you?”

Dean knows it’s true. He’s proved it even. The thought makes him roll his hips before he realizes he’s too far from John’s pelvis to get any friction. He pushes up on his knees and lowers himself over John’s groin, gasping when his balls press into John’s. He sits back so that their cocks are pressed together too and then closes his hand around them, gripping them both together. John is bigger than him, in this and in everything else but weight, and Dean barely notices that John moans when he begins to jerk them off. He starts to pant, his cheeks turning pink with heat and exertion, and his hips jerk forward in an unconscious bid for more friction. He can feel sweat dripping from his fleshy chest and creating a sheen across the expanse of his gut.

John is sweating too, along his hairline and pooled in his clavicle, as his hips begin to move with Dean’s. His groans have turned to growls and the jerks of his pelvis become more insistent. “Sit up, Dean,” he urges suddenly, pushing Dean backwards and sliding up so that they’re both closer to sitting. The position squashes their bellies together, makes the skin slide with sweat, the coarse hair on John’s gut rough against Dean’s soft paunch. Dean tilts his hips so that their cocks slide together again and this time John wraps his hand around them. Dean gasps as John’s hand, big and calloused, expertly strokes along their shafts. 

“Dad,” he grunts. “Oh my god.” Dean makes it through one more tug before he shoots, his body shuddering as his hips jerk forward. John milks his orgasm and then quickly finishes himself while Dean slumps in boneless satisfaction. John comes with a deep growl against Dean’s neck and then lets himself fall backwards onto the couch. 

Dean falls with him, draping over John’s chest, and they pant together until slowly the room grows quiet. Dean breathes in the smell of sweat and sex and _John_ from where his nose is nuzzled against John’s neck. It isn’t long before he becomes conscious of the sweat pooling in the small of his back and the way their skin sticks together. “It’s too hot,” he complains.

“Get off of me then,” John says mildly.

“No.” Dean smiles as he reaches his arms up to wrap around John’s neck. John mirrors the gesture, snaking his hands down to clasp around Dean’s back. Dean listens to John’s strong, steady heartbeat and lets out a contented sigh. It’s hot but he can feel cool air from the ceiling fan tickling over his naked skin. His eyes catch a shadow of John’s hair rustling in the breeze. He can tell when John falls asleep, and Dean feels his own eyelids grow heavier. The heat makes him tired; the already-uncomfortable sweat makes him care less about the mess of cum between them. He breathes in John’s scent again—smoke, alcohol, sweaty skin—and lets his eyes flutter shut.


End file.
